Beaches of Barksdale 7 One Tin Soldier Rides Away
by Lawndale Stalker
Summary: The weary survivors return Home to heal and try to get the sand out.


Thank you for your comments and suggestions. Please Keep them coming. Remember, I want you all to be beta readers for this fic, and tell me what you think I should add, subtract, or change. Thanks. GH  
  
  
  
  
  
1 THE BEACHES of BARKSDALE  
  
by  
  
1.1 GALEN HARDESTY  
  
PART VII  
  
ONE TIN SOLDIER RIDES AWAY  
  
  
  
"Listen, children, to a story  
  
that was written long ago  
  
'bout a Kingdom on a Mountain  
  
and the Valley Folk below.  
  
On the Mountain was a treasure  
  
buried deep beneath a stone  
  
and the Valley People swore  
  
they'd have it for their very own.  
  
Go ahead and hate your neighbor,  
  
go ahead and cheat a friend.  
  
Do it in the name of Heaven,  
  
you can justify it in the end.  
  
There won't be any trumpets blowin'  
  
come the Judgement Day.  
  
On the bloody morning after,  
  
one tin soldier rides away.  
  
So the People of the Valley  
  
sent a message up the Hill  
  
asking for the buried treasure  
  
tons of gold for which they'd kill.  
  
Came an answer from the Kingdom:  
  
'With our brothers we will share  
  
all the secrets of our Mountain,  
  
all the riches buried there.'  
  
Go ahead and hate your neighbor,  
  
go ahead and cheat a friend.  
  
Do it in the name of Heaven,  
  
you can justify it in the end.  
  
There won't be any trumpets blowin'  
  
come the Judgement Day.  
  
On the bloody morning after,  
  
one tin soldier rides away.  
  
Now the Valley cried with anger;  
  
'Mount your horses, draw your swords!'  
  
and they killed the Mountain People,  
  
so they won their just reward.  
  
Now they stood beside the treasure  
  
on the Mountain dark and red,  
  
turned the stone and looked beneath it,  
  
'Peace on Earth' was all it said.  
  
Go ahead and hate your neighbor,  
  
go ahead and cheat a friend.  
  
Do it in the name of Heaven,  
  
you can justify it in the end.  
  
There won't be any trumpets blowin'  
  
come the Judgement Day,  
  
on the bloody morning after,  
  
one tin soldier rides away."  
  
  
  
Jake slammed the trunk lid of the Lexus, took a deep breath, and hefted the last two suitcases. He'd had that song running through his head all day, for some reason. It had been one of his favorites, back in the day. Wow, that was back before he'd married Helen, even.  
  
And 'Billy Jack' had been one great movie, also one of his favorites. Right and wrong had been so clear, so uncomplicated in those days. Just treat others like you wanted to be treated, and let them do their own thing, and if it feels good, do it! Oops, scratch that last. It hadn't quite worked out. Jake set one of the suitcases down and opened the front door.  
  
Daria was there. She took the smaller of the two suitcases and held the inner door open as Jake brought in the other. "Thanks, kiddo!" he said. She gave him that special little hard-to-see smile of hers and led the way up the stairs.  
  
Treat others the way you want to be treated, let them do their thing, do your own thing, and stand up for your rights. And, if you absolutely have to, fight for your rights. Yeah. That was the message of 'Billy Jack'. It was still valid today. Some things really were simple.  
  
Jake put the suitcase down at the foot of his bed, next to the one Daria had just set down, and followed her out the bedroom door. He paused and watched her heading down the hall to her room. A really good kid. Now if he could just have a son like her. Jake sighed and headed downstairs. He was pretty sure he had 'Billy Jack' on tape somewhere.  
  
  
  
Quinn flopped down on her poofy pink bed and stared up at the canopy. She couldn't believe she'd gone to the beach and practically struck out! Bob had seemed nice, but they hadn't had time to do anything, after she'd wasted so much time on Manning, and he'd been scared to take her on the giant slingshot thingie. Now she didn't have any good pictures to show the fashion club!  
  
Well, she had gotten Daria to wear a hot bikini and be a beach bunny. That was something. She couldn't believe how lucky Daria had gotten- bagging three college men, right out of the car, without even looking! And she'd just walked right off with them, like she was a college junior herself- or at least a sophomore! And that was only her second date, ever! What would she be like if she decided she liked dating?  
  
At least Quinn could stop worrying that Daria was gay- or could she? What was that "remember, Sandi" thing with the tongue and the groping? Had Daria and Sandi actually... Naah! Of course not! Sandi was popular, Sandi dated lots of guys! Although Sandi very seldom dated anyone twice... and several guys had hinted to her that Sandi wasn't nearly as sexy as she looked... How could she find out?  
  
She could ask Daria, and Daria might or might not tell her something, and if she did, Quinn wouldn't know whether it was the truth or not. When Daria told the truth it sounded like a lie, or a fantasy, and when Daria lied it could sound like the truth or a fantasy or a lie or... crap! Talking to Daria was like trying to solve one of those brain twisters. Daria was a brain twister!  
  
Quinn certainly couldn't ask Sandi. Someone close to Sandi, then. Her brothers? She could see that. Hey, guys, does Sandi ever take girls up to her room and lock the door, and then they start giggling and making funny noises? She could imagine the reaction she'd get to that. Anyway, if they'd caught Sandi doing anything like that, they would have told her already.  
  
Tiffany? Probably the closest person to Sandi. She'd probably know, probably be involved if it were true. But would she tell Quinn? Tiff wasn't the sharpest eyebrow pencil in the makeup case, but she had an instinctive evasiveness, a way of telling everyone what she thought they wanted to hear, or just playing dumb. Er. Not really a good source of reliable information.  
  
Stacy, then. Not as likely to know, but much easier to interrogate. Stacy was terrified of Sandi. Heck, Stacy was terrified of Daria. But if Quinn got her alone, then she'd only be terrified of Quinn. If she knew anything, Quinn would have it out of her.  
  
Now, how could she get that killer bikini away from Daria...  
  
  
  
Helen collapsed across her king sizd bed and willed all her muscles to go limp. Ahh, that felt good! Now, maybe a little foot massage, and maybe a little of some other kind of massage... it would have to be very little, if any. Helen was beat. And beaten. She hadn't been this thoroughly beaten since she'd lost the fluoride-in-the-drinking-water debate in the fifth grade. Daria had made her promise not to try to get her to be more attractive (she still couldn't believe it!), not to involve her in family squabbles without her permission, to buy her a car now, and had MAXED OUT HER PLATINUM CARD!! Not to mention cash rewards for grades, which, although she hadn't agreed to it, was obviously a good idea, and almost a necessity in the circumstances. If they'd stayed away for another day, Daria would probably have done her out of that mountain cabin too!  
  
But it wasn't a total rout, Helen reflected. Daria had worn that very attractive bikini... that too attractive bikini! That too skimpy bikini! What was Quinn thinking?! And she'd spent most of the day with those three nice, bright college students, who had obviously enjoyed her company. And she, theirs. Helen blinked rapidly, smiled that bittersweet smile that only mothers know. Her baby was growing up so fast!  
  
Rita had definitely been favorably impressed with Daria, and had said so. Not only with her brilliance, but with her poise, and even her looks! Helen had known Daria was a very pretty girl, and that she'd been slimming down since she'd started that self-defense course, but how had she been hiding that breast development? Helen would have to take a more critical look at those sport bras Daria had taken to wearing. She wondered if Daria could still wear those old green stovepipe shaped jackets without them. As much as it would irk her, Helen would rather buy her daughter three identical jackets in a larger size than have her ruin her figure trying to squeeze it into those old ones. She had looked so amazingly good in that bikini!  
  
And Happy day, she didn't intend to keep wearing that awful outfit forever! College was still over a year away, but it was in sight. Hmmm. If repelling stupid people was really her reason for wearing it, maybe there was a prep school she'd be willing to attend her senior year...  
  
Helen thought about Saturday night, on the beach and in the bar. She'd had no idea Daria had been carrying around such a load of resentment! Of course, a large part of it had been freshly minted, having to do with being dragged to the beach against her will- Helen would definitely never do that again, at least not without checking for prior commitments-but that had dislodged a lot of other stuff, like all the money spent on Quinn's clothes, and the attractiveness thing. Helen wondered how long that resentment had been silently building. Who would have thought Daria could actually have good and valid reasons for not wanting to be attractive? It just wasn't the sort of thing that would have occurred to Helen. Saturday night must have been like a barbed wire enema for Daria. The poor thing!  
  
Well, it had all been uncovered and dealt with, and Helen was forgiven, and they'd had their bonding. Helen wondered if she'd have gone ahead with it if she'd known the total cost from the outset. Maybe she should try Mother's method and bake some brownies.  
  
  
  
  
  
Jane closed her front door and angled across her front lawn with Daria. They turned left onto the sidewalk and began the dreary Monday morning trek to Lawndale High. "So, Amiga, how was your day at the beach?"  
  
"Ever see 'The Longest Day'? 'Sands of Iwo Jima'?"  
  
"I don't see any bloody bandages. It couldn't have been all that bad."  
  
"I guess it was more like 'Day Of The Jackal' followed by 'Night Of The Iguana'."  
  
"Well, now that you've locked in the playbill for our next two bad movie nights, could I maybe get a quick synopsis?"  
  
"The drive down was pretty gruesome. I let Evil Daria out."  
  
"Oh, no! And she catalogued Helen's character flaws? Enumerated her faults as a parent and a human being? Bit her leg off?"  
  
"Worse. She sang songs."  
  
"Good grief, girl! Have you no pity?"  
  
"About two-thirds of the way down, I commuted Helen's sentence to stony silence. Gave her time to stop the bleeding before we hit the beach."  
  
"You're a fell but merciful foe. So, how was the beach itself?"  
  
"Like an outdoor meat market, but with fewer flies. There we are, in our swimwear, out on the bare, burning sands. Mom, who has a figure slightly better than Pamela Anderson, Quinn, no description necessary, and me, practically naked, to be gawked at and comparison shopped by every Tom, Dick, and Harry on the beach. Imagine my suffering."  
  
Jane looked at Daria sadly. "Do I have to?"  
  
"Actually, no." Daria stopped, took off her book bag, reached inside, and handed Jane three 5x7 prints. Pointing, she said, "This happened as soon as I took off my coverup. That's Tom, that's Dick, and that's Harry. Look, they're even handling the merchandise."  
  
Jane sucked big air. "Ohhhhh! Oooooh! They're cute! They're hunks! That one's gorgeous!"  
  
"Harry? Yeah, the photos don't do justice to the way the sunlight glinting off his golden chest hair sets off his deep rich tan."  
  
"Stop! You're killing me! Please tell me you brought one back for your best friend? The best friend who did all that great body art for you?"  
  
Daria did Sad Eyes. "Oh, Jane, I tried! But they had to get back to their physics and engineering studies. I'm so sorry."  
  
"They're college guys? Looks like that and brains too? It seems so unfair! So, what did you do after the photo shoot?"  
  
"It was awful! They dragged me up the beach and down the strip. They took me to lunch, we played games, they bought me junk food, we went on rides, they bought me trinkets, they took me to dinner, they...they..." Daria blinked rapidly, brought a clenched fist to her lips. Her expression changed to one of distress.  
  
"They what? What? Daria, what did they do to you?"  
  
Daria buried her face in her hands. "Oh, Jane! They, they... gave me crabs!" she wailed.  
  
"What?! Daria!"  
  
"See?" Daria unzipped her jacket, opened it up. In place of her usual raw sienna pullover, she wore a sand colored T-shirt printed with many little red crabs surrounding a giant red crab claw and the words:  
  
I GOT CRABS AT  
  
THE CLAW!  
  
Jane punched a grinning Daria in the shoulder. "I'll give you contusions, you rotten little..."  
  
"Ow! Hey, that's my Art Nouveau shoulder!  
  
"So it seems you didn't suffer quite so horribly as you'd like everyone to believe."  
  
"I guess I did kinda sorta have a little bit of something resembling fun."  
  
"You don't almost say. So you weren't scarred for life by wearing that bikini?"  
  
"I probably was. I did feel almost naked in it for the first hour or two, and it felt like every eyeball on the beach was sliding around on my bare, quivering flesh. But I bet I'll never have that in-my-underwear-in-public dream again. I've been inoculated" Daria stared off into some unseen distance, the ghost of a smile on her lips.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"What are you thinking about?"  
  
"Oh, nothing. It's just..."  
  
"What?!"  
  
Daria sighed. "The power of that thing! It was awesome! Guys were falling down in groups without me even batting an eye at them!"  
  
Jane smirked and did her best Yoda impression, which wasn't very good. "Beware the skimpy side, young Sandwalker, for once you start down that path, forever will it dominate your destiny!"  
  
Daria smirked back. "It's probably too late for me, then. Guess I'll wind up in a g-string, spinning around a brass pole in some sleazy roadhouse."  
  
"I'll come by and stuff a fiver in your string for old times."  
  
"You're such a good friend."  
  
They walked on in silence for a block. Jane kept glancing at Daria. Finally she spoke up. "There's still something bothering you."  
  
Daria glanced at Jane, then away. "It's probably nothing. Even if it's something, it's no biggie."  
  
"We're a block and a half from school with nothing better to do. Talk."  
  
"Well, it's just that I played a silly prank on Quinn yesterday morning, and it may come back to bite me." Daria told Jane about sticking her tongue in Quinn's ear, and the buildup to it.  
  
Two minutes later, they were no closer to school. "Jane, get up."  
  
"AAAAAHaahaahaaaa! OOOOHahaheeheeheeee!"  
  
"It's not that funny! Besides, we'll be late! At least walk while you're laughing." Daria pulled Jane to her feet.  
  
Jane wiped her eyes and resumed course schoolward, with a little guidance from Daria. "You are so wicked! Heeheehee! So how is this going to bite you?"  
  
"Quinn left pretty early this morning, which usually means she wants to talk with Stacy."  
  
"Sandi's thrall? The third greatest gossip in Lawndale High? That Stacy?"  
  
"You got it. If Quinn grills her on which way Sandi's swinging lately, it'll be all over school by noon. My rep will be caca."  
  
Jane smirked. "Cheer up! I see a bright future for you writing off-color sitcoms. This can be your series pilot. Your rep will be just right for Hollywood."  
  
Daria returned the smirk. "Off-color sitcoms. Is there any other kind?"  
  
"I heard Ozzie and Harriet was pretty clean. Never saw it, though. Before my time."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Daria pulled her ragged biology textbook out of her locker, placed it carefully in her bookbag so the center section of pages wouldn't fall out again.As she closed her locker door and spun the knob, Brittany approached, accompanied by several girls and a couple of boys who were trying to look like they weren't accompanying Brittany, or each other. Daria would have made a crack about being all sold out of crack for today, but she knew this was the wrong audience for such witticisms.  
  
Brittany twirled her ponytail with her right forefinger, her formidable breastworks cantilevered out over the books she hugged to her chest with her left arm. "Um, Daria, could I, like, ask you a question?"  
  
Daria would ordinarily reply "You just did." But in Brittany's case it would just impede the present conversation with no hope of future improvement. "Sure, Brittany."  
  
"Were you like, with Sandi Saturday?"  
  
There it was. Quinn had asked Stacy, and Stacy had told everyone she knew. Daria had to feel sorry for Stacy. What must it feel like to be that desperate for approval? Fortunately, Daria had just the thing to nip this rumor in the bud, at least as concerning her. She pulled out the photo of her being held overhead by Tom, Dick, and Harry, and handed it to Brittany. "No, I wasn't. This is what I was doing last Saturday, down at the beach. As you can see, no sign of Ms. Griffin."  
  
Brittany looked genuinely relieved. "I didn't think so! Wow, Daria, is that really you? You're like, really cute! And those guys are so dreeamy!" The other non-members of the non-group edged closer to peek at the photo.  
  
"Yeah, too bad they're Auburn students. Don't tell anyone I'm secretly a bad beach bunny, okay? Uhh, why did you ask me about Sandi?"  
  
Brittany's twirling finger increased its rpm. "Ummm, gee, Daria, there's like, this rumor that you and Sandi were, umm..."  
  
"Oh, for cryin' out loud! I don't know how that ridiculous rumor got started, but I've heard two versions of it myself, one with Sandi and Tiffany, the other with Sandi and Ms. Barch. Both obviously absurd. I didn't give a moment's serious thought to it, and you shouldn't either."  
  
Jane watched as the gossip squad moved off. "Oooh, that was evil!"  
  
Daria grinned. "When the rumor juggernaut rolls my way, I like to throw someone under the wheel. It gives me a better chance to dodge."  
  
  
  
  
  
Daria consulted a small address book on her desk, then punched a number. After three rings, it was answered. "Hello, Erin? This is Daria. Are you busy?" She turned to a blank page in her notebook, picked up a pencil, and wrote Helen/Rita at the top.  
  
  
  
THE END  
  
Thanks to Chris Parra for suggesting the title to this part, and for sending me the lyrics to 'The Ballad of Billy Jack'.  
  
  
  
1.2 Disclaimer  
  
 "Daria" and all related characters are trademarks of MTV Networks, a division of Viacom International, inc. The author does not claim copyright to these characters or to anything else in the "Daria" milieu; he does, however, claim copyright to all those parts of this work of fiction which are original to him and not to MTV or to other fanfic authors. This fanfic may be freely copied and distributed provided its contents remain unchanged, provided the author's name and email address are included, and provided that the distributor does not use it for monetary profit. (as if.)  
  
  Galen Hardesty [gehardesty@yahoo.com] 


End file.
